monsters under your bed
by saunatonttu
Summary: His life is ordinary until the monster comes to get him. Two- or threeshot. Rated M for violence and sexual themes.
1. Part I

**Title: **monsters under your bed

**Rating: **T...?

**Characters: **Irie Shouichi, Byakuran, Rokudo Mukuro (though briefly)

**Pairing:** sort of 10051...? Maybe...?

**Summary:** Shouichi's life is normal - and he likes it as it is. Alas, it all comes crumbling down when something straight from a nightmare comes to get him. Two- or threeshot, depending on how wordy I get.

**Credit: **I got this idea from IdyllicCritic. I know it's not exactly according to your comment, but this somehow wrote itself like this.

* * *

He's been very stressed lately and that's why this is happening, that's the only explanation he can offer to himself.

Being the head programmer for Vongola corporation isn't exactly a stress-free job, after all; the countless hours the work consumes from him are longer than the ones he spends in his own apartment in quiet, and the vacations are scarce if not nonexistent.

But Irie Shouichi does not complain, does not utter a single protest at the gruesome working hours that would have any other person filing a complaint against the company.

He is, as you can imagine, very much in love with his work, and fully committed to spending the rest of his working life solving problems and creating new programs that would benefit Vongola more than not.

His newest creation was a security program, and so far it had been a huge success as the amount of hacking that occurred monthly had decreased noticeably much to everyone's immense relief and joy.

In exchange, Shouichi had missed quite a few nights worth of sleep, but he doesn't regret anything. Except maybe the fact that his back is starting to get worse again because of him dozing off on his laptop.

Anyhow.

Everything begins one snowy night – except that in reality, this is no beginning but rather the middle of the story for the other main character of this play that borderlines tragedy.

That night, snow falls down in heaps, flakes of white sticking together as they fall down on the unsuspecting people, much to the joy of children and annoyance of drivers.

Today, Irie Shouichi has returned home from one excruciating day of work, and he barely notices the snow or the squeals of children as he makes his way up towards his apartment in the largest apartment building of the area.

It's a cold concrete building, aesthetically not pleasing to the eye, but it is sturdy and has room and the prices have gone through the roof.

The same could be said about Shouichi's apartment itself; it is small but offers warmth and a place to sleep and eat at whenever he's gone from work.

But it can't be called a home.

It lacks the warm feelings of attachment and devotion, and it's not a place Shouichi feels completely at ease in.

If anything, this night he feels even more uncomfortable in his tiny apartment than usual. Something nasty is in the air, he could feel it... but he has never been the type to listent to those sorts of paranoid thoughts that would only claw you alive.

His life is bleak at best, there is no way anything would change that.

And he does not mind the bleakness of it, not at all; he is content with his life, with his choices, with his work and relationships.

It's everything he needs, but...

But.

There is always the but.

...

It's later on that evening when that terrible feeling of something being amiss returns to him, and he's already in his pyjamas by then, right about to tuck himself under the covers of his simple bed.

The feeling makes the hairs on the back of neck stand up, and a shudder runs up his spine like ghostly fingers over his skin.

Shouichi halts his movements, his dazed green eyes gazing around the room thoroughly as the cold feeling of wrongness grips his heart tighter.

The darkness has fallen a long time ago, its reign starting after the colorful sunset, and now all light has fallen to its victim, rendering Shouichi's near-sighted eyes useless.

Shouichi swallows thickly just as he reprimands himself for being so jumpy and rigid when there is absolutely nothing to be afraid of in his _own apartment. _ The silly fear of burglary occurring here is just that – silly, since he lives on the fifteenth floor and there's a very trustworthy security system he himself has checked and upgraded at least twelve times during the three years he has lived here.

Of course this must be his overactive imagination going wild, right...

Shouichi agrees with himself, again chastising himself for being silly before he pulls the covers over and climbs into the bed and tugs the warm blankets over his body. With that, everything is settled, and he can sleep peacefully in his bed.

But life hardly ever goes according to plan, does it?

This time life decides to kick Shouichi's crotch with high heels and squirt lemon juice into the green eyes; that is what life does, that ever so fickle thing.

Or maybe life has merely decided that it's time to break the serenity that is Shouichi's everyday routine.

Shouichi shifts over to his right side, one arm resting over his torso underneath the blankets while other lies on the blanket wrapped around his body.

A minute or two – or thirty-two – passes in comfortable silence, during which Shouichi tries to sleep, but as is the case with many things, the harder one tries to fall asleep, the more aware they get of their surroundings.

This is one of such cases.

It happens when he's near to falling asleep, his nerves finally letting go of the tension he has built up in the past few days and sleep almost overcomes his senses – and that is why he initially believes it is just a figment of his imagination.

He twitches lightly in his near-sleep, half of his pyjamas-covered leg sticking out from underneath the blankets, but even in his sleepy state, he can feel clearly the feeling of something touching his ankle. Something cold, distinguishly softer than the touch of a feather, brushes against the skin, and Shouichi furrows his brow, his foot twitching in agitation at the tickling sensation.

The sensation does not stop there, but it climbs up his leg – feather-like touch of something ghostly – and it reaches his knee effortlessly, and at this point Shouichi's not sleepy anymore. That sensation is impossible to ignore – it's like fingers are tracing his leg, barely touching but it's sitll enough for Shouichi to _feel _it and be _aware _of it.

When he feels something close to nails scraping against the joint of his knee, Shouichi's eyes fly open as he pulls his leg back onto the bed a little too quickly, nearly colliding with the wall on his other side.

"What the..." Shouichi mutters as he pulls his leg up and stares at the darkness looming in his room. No one's there, he tells himself – and every logical human being would agree with him on that observation.

No one's there – but why does it feel like he's under someone's sharp, watchful eyes this very moment?

At the very least, the sensation is gone (_cold, soft and agile fingers trailing up his leg), _but Shouichi doesn't feel much better; he thinks he might be going insane or his paranoid thoughts are finally getting the best of him.

Shouichi lets out a breath he has been holding, fingers clumsily running through his messy bush of red hair, before shakily lying down again and this time making sure both his legs are under the blanket. Maybe it's just the cold temperature outside that somehow manages to seep inside his room every now and then.

Yes, that must be it.

Shouichi closes his bloodshot eyes again, unaware of the pair of amethystine hues that stare at his sluggish form closely and with a hint of not so innocent intentions.

The second pair of lips in that room curl up into a wicked, playful smile as sickeningly pale fingers curl.

"Found you, you naughty child," the lips whisper deceivingly gently as fingers reach for the sleeping redhead's hair but do not touch. "Will you play with me, Shou-chan~?"

* * *

From that day forward, Shouichi has felt like somebody's watching him, and the feeling is driving him mad.

The scary thing, however, is that it's not a constant nagging feeling in the back of his mind – that would have been his unreasonable paranoia, most definitely – but he only gets that feeling in his own little apartment.

And that scares him, no matter how many times he tells himself that he's being idiotic. There are no hidden cameras in his room; he knows that because of the detection system he himself has and which he uses.

Spying is, sadly, a part of the technology industry, and his works are desired by many companies all around the world.

So, no hidden cameras and no listening devices either can explain the suffocating feeling of being watched in his apartment – or, to be more precise, in his bedroom, and that's the part that is really worrisome for him.

It has reached the point where he can't even undress in his bedroom anymore because of the eerie feeling of someone's eyes devouring the sight of his bare body.

And then, when he tries to sleep...

Sometimes he feels that same ticklish sensation of ice-cold fingers tracing his legs (ankles, feet, even _thighs_) accompanied with nails scraping his skin – and each time this process occurs, he can feel the touches more and more clearly, as though an actual person is there with him during those times...

Sometimes, the invisibly touches move up into his hair and they press up against his scalp so strongly that Shouichi, during those moments, feels like somebody's hand is gripping his head.

And then there are times when he swears he can feel someone's breath on his skin.

Those are the times when Shouichi thinks that he has actually gone insane; not mention the times he wakes up in cold sweat because those touches enter his dreams, too, and he can't escape them no matter the state of his brain activity.

He tries to escape this by working even harder and staying at his working place for the nights as well – not that this is anything unusual in the first place – to ease his growing uneasiness and panic-stricken stomachaches.

For the most part, it works, but his boss takes it upon himself to send Shouichi back home after a few too many times spent in comfortable silence and peace for his mind.

"I'm just concerned for you, Shouichi-kun" is what Sawada Tsunayoshi says as he gives Shouichi a serious look that speaks volumes of just how worried the brunet really is for him and his working habits. "You've been working hard, and you need your rest just like everyone else."

And that is how Shouichi has gotten two weeks off from work.

Back to his apartment then.

* * *

It's the first night of his forced vacation when he starts to hear that voice.

It's so sudden, too, that Shouichi nearly trips over his feet as he attempts to climb into his bed. Not to mention the near heart attack he gets from the sudden sultry voice he hears from his behind.

"Shou-chan has been avoiding me," the voice says softly, accusingly, and Shouichi can hear the hard edge that lies underneath the amicability. It's enough to make him freeze and nearly collide with the wall on his bed's side.

But he doesn't because something grips him from his torso and stops his nearly unavoidable collision. That, however, is not the first thought in his mind; it's the sheer coldness that he can feel pressing against his back and the shallow breathing tickling his neck that takes up all the space in his mind and thoughts.

He doesn't believe in the supernatural, but he can't explain this phenomenon with science, either.

The only acceptable exlanation is that Shouichi has lost his mind and is hallucinating.

A chuckle echoes in his ears, and he can feel chilly breath fanning at the shell of his ear, eliciting a shiver from the red-haired programmer.

"You are not real," Shouichi mutters to himself, trying to convince himself out of this hallucination, but the tightening hold around his torso only turns more real when nails dig into the fabric of Shouichi's pyjama shirt.

"How cruel of you to say such a thing, Shou-chan," the voice chuckles again into Shouichi's ear, and even if it's as quiet as a falling feather, Shouichi can hear it just as clearly as he would if the other shouted.

His stomach hurts as his understanding of the world fails him.

"How can you say that I don't exist when I can do this to you?" the voice whispers nastily, sharp nails (or that's how they feel like, to him) digging through the fabric and against his aching stomach. "Shou-chan is so skeptic, it's cute."

Shouichi groans at the sharp pain on his skin.

He can _hear _the devilish grin from the voice even if it doesn't have a face to smile with. "It hurts, doesn't it~?"

Sadist, Shouichi wants to retort, but fear grips him and renders him speechless as he stares at the slowly growing spot of red on his pajama shirt.

He has always had a safe life – he has never had any trouble, asides from the feeling of detachment and separation, in this world; he has never caused any trouble for anyone; he has never...

And now he's... in this situation, hallucination, whatever it is.

"Don't look so troubled now, _Shou-chan_," the voice giggles in amusement, and immediately the sharp pain in his stomach eases a bit as the invisible nails move from his wound. There's something more than just vague sinister feeling he gets from the voice, and it's nothing good, he thinks to himself as he tries to force his way onto the bed.

Unsuccessfully, he might add.

"Trying to escape, little lamb?" This time, there's no way Shouichi could miss the hard, dangerous edge that shines through the honey-saturated voice. "Oh, Shou-chan, you can be so utterly silly sometimes. It amuses me oh so much."

"What do you want from me?" Shouichi asks quietly and with underlying desperation, but regrets it immediately after as the coldness on his back intensifies and the pressure of someone's chest on his back growing larger. It doesn't hurt, surprisingly, but it is uncomfortable when weight and coldness are combined this way on his back.

Something presses against Shouichi's cheek, and he shivers involuntarily; the freezing cold feels like it's going to consume him completely until there's nothing left but his ice statue, forever frozen and forever locking him inside that crystal blue prison.

A breathy laughter tickles his cheek, and Shouichi purses his lips – they're already losing their warmth, and they quiver, teeth gritting together underneath the pale lips.

"What I want, hm~?" the voice hums, and Shouichi thinks that there's no way any voice could be as... suggestive as this one is. Sickeningly sweet and lewd at the same time, enough to make his tomach flip around in discomfort. "It's simple, Shou-chan..."

"And stop calling me that!" Shouichi retorts, his stomach's grumbling growing louder and stronger, and the nausea is enough to make him close his eyes in order to keep his stomach inside him.

"Ah, ah, did you lose your temper with me?" the nasty whisper in his ear echoes in his mind, and Shouichi shudders unwillingly against the invisible force that holds him in its grasp. "You're just _adorable_, aren't you? It just makes me want to... ravish you."

If that doesn't make him want to run for the hills, then nothing ever willl.

"Adorable little rabbit," the voice purrs against his cheek, invisibly hands grasping Shouichi's chest and pulling him closer to the being that Shouichi can't see but which he can _sense _frighteningly well.

Shouchi's cheeks burn with anger, fear, and embarrassment – he's not sure which of those emotions is the strongest one, but they are all present in his stomach, in his mind, and in the way he twitches in the being's hold.

"I'm not-!" he all but squeaks, his voice cut off by a sharp pain coming from the side of his neck. "Ah-!" he gasps as he violently thrashes against the grip, the pain on his neck becoming unbearable as something _rips _and _tears _at his skin.

Devouring him.

Shouichi trembles more and his vision blurs as he can feel blood flooding down his neck; a scream leaves his lips as the pain grows tenfold and it feels like it's tearing him from the inside, the pain robbing him of all coherency as his world of senses is taken over by all-devouring agony.

The cause of all this pain chuckles, and the sharpest pain on his neck disappears. But the bleeding doesn't. "This is a punishment since Shou-chan has been trying to avoid me~. Bad, bad Shou-chan," the voice admonishes him like he's a badly behaving child.

Shouichi doesn't have the strength to protest or pay full attention to the degrading manner of speaking; he merely tries to breathe correctly but he can feel himself slipping into the state of shock little by little as his torn flesh on his neck aches in unmeasurable pain.

"Shou-chan can't escape me," the voice croons into his ear, mesmerizingly and yet so threateningly, as something that feels like a hand wraps around Shouichi's throat and _squeezes –_ earning a blood-splattering cough from Shouichi.

"Because we're bound together."

There's something terribly wrong with the cheerful way this being says that, Shouichi distantly notes to himself as his senses weaken, the thumping of his heart winning over the voice by now in volume.

The next words the voice utters are so quiet that Shouichi doesn't catch them – but it doesn't matter to him in the least.

"Shou-chan will be my beautiful white queen, won't he?"

Says the monster that lurks in the shadows of Shouichi's bed, waiting for the promised day when his real form returns to him.

It's coming soon, the said monster feels this as he gazes at Shouichi's withering form, and it smiles, its blood-stained teeth peeking from behind its lips.

It's the bloody eve of a new beginning for him.

* * *

When Shouichi's eyes open, it's already mid-afternoon, and there's no sign of blood anywhere on his sheets... or himself, he notices as he stares at the mirror in the bathroom, his hand on his unblemished neck.

And it confuses him.

_Didn't something really disturbing happen last night? _Shouichi questions himself, his thumb brushing over the crook of his neck where there should be at least a small injury. Logically, there should be torn skin and dried blood and grime, but there is none of that.

His skin is as unblemished as usual.

Shouichi lets out a long sigh, letting his hand fall from his shoulder as he hangs his head in a dejected manner. So, after all, he really is turning insane...

A shudder runs up his spine as he thinks about what had happened... in his mind, at least.

Maybe he really is insane.

Shouichi swallows thickly as he raises his head back to its former position and stares at his reflection some more, noting the dark rings under his eyes even despite how he slept over ten hours after that experience.

He shudders again, the cold feeling on his back is the same as before at least.

Maybe he's just getting sick and these hallucinations are a sign of that...? Has he really overworked himself to this extent?

The coldness inside him only grows worse as those thoughts run through his mind, his hands clutching at his rumbling stomach. This just the worst... Shouichi's dull green eyes fall shut as he tries to calm his erratic breathing down.

_Beautiful white queen. _

Those words make his legs tremble even now, and it's hard to believe that the voice would be just a fidment of his imagination.

It can't be just his imagination...

It just can't...

* * *

There's little to say about the next few days; the same sort of things occur every night, only for the next morning to make him question his mental stability.

And what's more, the figment of his imagination now has a name – Byakuran.

It's also clear that he (Byakuran has a distinctively masculine voice) likes to make vague chess allusions every chance he gets, and that's perhaps the only thing Shouichi can stand in the invisible creature of his own mind.

He's touchy feely, and it's not even in the sexual manner that Shouichi could maybe shrug off somehow; there's something much darker and possessive in those touches, and to be frank, it scares him more than anything else about Byakuran.

Because he can't see Byakuran, things are much more worrisome for him, and his stomachaches grow both in frequency and intensity as he worries over his sanity.

He tries to talk about it to Spanner, his best friend, but every time he opens his mouth ("did you know there's someone named Byakuran living in my head and I think it's not just my imagination even though I try to tell myself that he's just a sick pran my min projects onto me?") he finds himself incapable of uttering even a single word about Byakuran or the sickening, foreboding feeling in his gut.

And so he seals his own destiny, although he does not know this yet.

* * *

It's the tenth night since his vacation started, and Shouichi can't sleep. Not because of invisible touches all around his body that make him feel dirty in the most illogical sense – even if those touches _are _greedy and never cease – since there isn't any touching going on at the moment.

His body is all his own again, and he should be content, but this time it's the noises that keep him up, frozen on his bed like a little child who has been scared with stories of the bogeyman a few times too many.

He can't help but wonder why this has to happen to him, of all people in the world, as he hears a scratching sound from underneath his bed. His breathing halts as he listens closely to the sounds coming from the opening between the floor and his bed.

Something scratched at the bottom of his bed, eliciting a long, ear-piercing sound., and Shouichi closes his eyes, wrapping himself tightly into the blankets as he attempts to ignore the sounds.

It's like he's still the same thirteen-year-old teen who wet himself due to his fear of dark and unknown; even then he had gotten the eerie feeling of being watched.

But this time it's real, and he can't even try to fool himself thinking that it is just his imagination; the sound of something scratching against the wood underneath him isn't something his ears could mishear so easily.

That night, he won't fall asleep.

* * *

"It should take a day or two at most~," the white-haired, long-legged humanoid hums happily to himself as he stood up from his crouching position, locks of pure white swaying over his face as he looks up at the simply decorated ceiling, from where several small doll-like things hang.

His precious little dolls.

A smile plays on his lips as he reaches for one of the dolls; a figure of a dark-haired girl with deep blue eyes and a smile that could touch the evillest of hearts – but never his, never _ever_ his.

His fingers stroke at her porceline cheek, sharp nails digging into the soft skin (because _realistic _dolls are always the best, are they not?) and tearing until dots of red greet his sight.

Her eyes remain as blank as the everlasting night outside this room.

"Yuni-chan's so beautiful when she's submissive like this," Byakuran coos at the doll, nails scraping over the injury he has given the girl. "So, so beautiful."

But she's nowhere near being his favorite~!

That place belongs to the one he has been hunting down ever so diligently for a good few years by now... _That _special person whose disappearance would be sure to attract a certain brunet's attention as well.

But Byakuran merely counts that in as a bonus.

Irie Shouichi, after all, is so much _more _than just a mere bait used to lure in a bigger fish. So, _so _much more; Byakuran's long, agile fingers twitch in excitement as he thinks about the red-haired man.

"It's rare to see you so excited," a decidedly bored voice echoes from behind the tall humanoid, and Byakuran tilts his head slightly, an act of curiosity.

"It's even rarer for Mukuro-kun to come visit me on his own."

'Mukuro' chuckles dryly, one blue and one red eye flashing as Byakuran does not bother to turn around.

"Once upon a blue moon, even I get bored enough to come visit the likes of you."

Byakuran's grin turns into an outright smirk as he fingers caress at his doll's face, not minding the rope that hangs her from her neck.

"Oho~? You like to talk big for a low-class being such as yourself, Mukuro-kun."

"What do you want with Irie Shouichi?"

Byakuran halts his movements, finally turning his head to face Mukuro, whose figure is as ghostly pale as it always is and whose eyes are narrowed into a condescending glare. Nothing new under the moon.

Byakuran opens his eyes half-way, his curious look fading and replaced by a nearly stern one. "Figures Mukuro-kun would know of Shou-chan," he chuckles mirthlessly, lips curling up higher on his face.

"Answer me, Byakuran." Mukuro's voice drips with inpatience and underlying anger – and Byakuran knows well where that emotion comes from.

This time, he laughs.

"If Mukuro-kun doesn't know my plans yet, then he should hurry up and find out, should he not~?" Byakuran croons, not even a hint of gentleness apparent in his voice nor face.

"Otherwise," Byakuran lowers his voice as he smirks smugly, "it might be too _late _for the one you love, no?"

Mukuro's face, he later thinks, was a sight to behold.

* * *

Byakuran finds the task of breaking into another world to be a dreadfully exhausting without the proper preparations, which he this time has made sure to take as he doesn't wish to let Shouichi get away from him.

Proper preparations being, well, letting his energy replenish and then loosening those metaphorical threads that keep separating the two closely-tied worlds.

Putting all jokes aside, transcending the borders of the worlds is not an easy task, even though Byakuran manages to do so all the time – but only partially most of the time as he too uses a lot of his energy on other things, such as fighting off those disgusting little rats that keep swarming outside his humble abode – or so he likes to call the little house that he in reality has no need for.

Beings such as him need nothing like peace or rest; what they need, what he needs, is power... and nutrition, of course. Byakuran loves to eat; the sweeter the prey is, the better.

A thing that he loves more than sweet-tasting prey?

Mind-fucking the little rabbits called humans, of course.

And this is exactly what he has been doing to Shouichi – and please, mind-fuck in this case does not mean Byakuran imagining dirty things he could do to Shouichi.

Although he does that too, just to entertain himself.

(He can't help but want that lithe little body underneath him, squirming in pleasure and face flushed deep red as he pleads Byakuran to stop-)

He _tugs _at the air hard enough to cause a rumbling noise (seemingly from nowhere but actually it is the door to the other world), and Byakuran hums (a drop of sweat lingers on his cheek) as the door slams fully open and-

His fingers scratch against the familiar wooden board that keeps the mattress on Shouichi's bed; Byakuran momentarily distracts himself with the thought of himself and Shouichi on that bed, Byakuran's longer limbs tangled with Shouichi's and skin pressed against skin-

Byakuran feels no shame as he shakes that thought off, nimbly squirming underneath the redhead's bed and purposely letting his leg slam against the legs of the bed – thus informing the redhead of his presence like he has so many times before.

This time, though, he's fully there; not just half of him like most of the other times. His complete form had returned. Finally.

_And this time_, Byakuran muses to himself as he hears Shouichi's breath catching in his throat, _I'm getting what I came here to get. _

* * *

Shouichi is starting to reach for his glasses on his nightstand when his hand is grasped. Tightly. Too tightly, even-

But he doesn't cry out; instead, he bites his lower lip despite the pain going up his arm, and raises his head slightly to glare at the space he expects nothing to be seen in-

-but now there is a person whose outline he can see very vaguely even in the darkness and without his glasses.

Shouichi's eyes widen remarkably. "Who-"

The familiar laughter greets him like an old enemy.

"You know me already, Shou-chan."

_That voice. Byakuran._

Shouichi immediately attempts to tug his arm back, immediate rejection to Byakuran's unwanted presence in his room.

He sees the white strands of hair swaying right before he's forced to stand up by a harsh tug from Byakuran – and the next second he's entangled in Byakuran's long, spidery limbs, and nails are scratching Shouchi's back to the point where the redhead is gasping out loud.

"What are you-"

* * *

_Shou-chan_ sounds so very scandalized as Byakuran presses closer, and the white-haired monster (because that's what he is, isn't he? A dirty little monster that takes whatever he wants until that plaything has outlived his or her use as an entertainment?) can't help but love the way Shouichi feebly tries to fight against what is meant to be.

It's so adorable in the strangest of ways, Byakuran thinks to himself as he effectively pins Shouichi against the wall and holds Shouichi's arms by the redhead's face so that he can't squirm.

It makes Shouichi's soul even tastier, he can feel it, and the desire to just suck in the very being that is Irie Shouichi flares up like the flames in dry hay.

But there's one soul he needs – not for his hunger, but for his ambition – and Shouichi can help him with that.

That, and Byakuran wants to keep this one with him longer than the last plaything that had gone by the name of Leonardo.

And the raven's sould hadn't even tasted that good, Byakuran sulks to himself as he connects eyes with Shouichi – forest, almost dull, green eyes staring at Byakuran' amethystine ones.

Byakuran grins, pearly white teeth revealed – and Shouichi's face pales noticeably as Byakuran leans in to press their lips together.

This is just one of Byakuran's ways to steal one's soul, but it's definitely his favorite one, and this case only makes his preferences even clearer to himself.

Shouichi's lips are soft and tender underneath Byakuran's demanding ones, and Byakuran grins at the thought of this being Shouichi's first kiss.

There's nothing better than robbing people of their innocence.

Byakuran nibbles down on Shouichi's lower lip, ignoring the way the redhead attempts to shift his head away from him, and can't quite suppress an excited shudder that goes through him when Shouichi's lips part-

-but then the redhead already goes limp in his arms, completely knocked out.

Byakuran moves his hand to Shouichi's neck, testing for pulse to see whether he had gone too far with the kiss. A steady heartbeat meets his finger, and a pleased grin graces his lips.

_Job well done, Byakkun._


	2. Part II

**title: **monsters under your bed

**rating: **moving this up to M because of violence and... sexual things that I'm not sure how they got in.

**Characters: **Byakuran, Irie Shouichi, Sawada Tsunayoshi (only briefly)

**Notes: **Uh, so this might not make any sense at all, and if it doesn't, I apologize deeply.

* * *

Part II

* * *

He feels like throwing up – in fact, he can already feel the bile rising up in his throat and it takes all of his self-control not to roll over and puke his guts out.

The stormy rolling in his stomach makes him squeeze his eyes shut even tighter as his hands fumble for blanket to hold onto. It's pathetic, but during these times he likes to hold onto something, be it his stomach or blanket. Touching – holding onto something – is oddly comforting.

But there's no blanket that he can grab, and that's what makes him open his eyes with some force and with a dreadful feeling that nags at the back of his mind like a parasite.

"Wake up, wake up, sweet little prince~," obnoxiously familiar voice whispers breathlessly into Shouichi's ear, causing the man to twitch and shudder as a reaction; his body's reactions reveal him so easily, much to the redhead's immense displeasure.

A finger brushes against Shouichi's side, trailing upwards and lifting the pyjama shirt as it travels across Shouichi's skin – and that's enough to have the redhead up and squirming away from Byakuran with his eyes still squeezed shut tightly as though he doesn't want to see Byakuran (and really, he doesn't, Byakuran's just-)

Shouichi hears Byakuran humming (is that disappointment he detects in the other's tone?), and his back presses against the wall he has backed off onto. The hard wooden wall presses against his back hard and Shouichi presses back – a pathetic attempt at getting away, truly, and Shouichi knows it.

"Why so scared?" Byakuran's hand touches Shouichi's face with his freezing cold hands, hard as marble but as soft as a feather at the same time, and traces Shouichi's cheek with gentleness that screams danger.

"Shou-chan..."

And there it is, that name Byakuran inexplicably uses of him – _Shou-chan. _His mother used to call him that, once upon a time, but now he hasn't talked with her in years.

A guilt wells up in his heart at that thought – he should have done so many things, should have been closer with his family, should have...

A nail pokes at his cheek, and Shouichi's eyes fly open instantly – only to meet the intensely purple pair.

Byakuran's thin lips curl into an amused grin as his eyes narrow in glee. "Got you to look at me~," he cheers rather childishly, but Shouichi knows better than to trust this cheerfulness to last. He has been on the receiving end of those claws – at least, in his dreams, if nothing else.

Shouichi stares at Byakuran's face, much too close to his own, and his eyes first find the mark underneath Byakuran's left eye – three triangles connected together, and for a moment Shouichi gets the strangest sense of déjà vu that Byakuran's hand on his cheek nearly goes unnoticed.

"What do you want from me?" Shouichi asks quietly, remaining stiff under Byakuran's inspection and trying not to stare at Byakuran's a little too long limbs and sharpened nails that had already caused him a few nightmares.

Byakuran tilts his head at the question as if he doesn't comprehend it, his nimble fingers tapping against Shouichi's cheek before they travel down to the crook of the redhead's neck where they stay pressed, the rhytmical pulse of Shouichi's heart drumming against the cold fingers.

"What do I want from you?" Byakuran repeats the question as he hovers over Shouichi's body, which remains stiff and unresponsive to the touch on his neck.

"Hmhm, let's see," Byakuran hums as his other hand forcibly straightens Shouichi's legs, pulling them away from Shouichi's chest the knees have been pressed against this whole time. "I want Shou-chan to feel comfortable around me," the white-haired being begins, his thin body moving to straddle Shouichi, and Shouichi's disapproving but fearful glare is ignored.

"And I want Shou-chan to help me with little something~."

A hand caresses Shouichi's flushed cheek tenderly, and Shouichi feels his chest tightening with dread. This doesn't sound good.

* * *

"This is my quaint little world."

Shouichi stands next to him, eyes dim and lifeless and position stiff but open, and Byakuran can't help but purr with satisfaction at the submissive behavior Shouichi shows, even if he really prefers it when Shouichi fights back with all of the fire in his heart.

But, for his purposes, a submissive Shouichi is needed.

And with a little mind-fuck, he has managed to make Shouichi his little servant boy – one that doesn't know his own value, as well. Byakuran mulls over this thoughts as he sweeps back some of the reddish hair that has fallen to cover Shouichi's thick-framed glasses and eyes. Beautifully dull eyes.

Byakuran thinks back to the times when he used to go to Shouichi's world on daily basis when the other had been a mere teen – memories of scrawny legs, awkward first wet dreams, and suppressed panic attacks fill Byakuran's mind and for a moment he feels _nostalgic._

Back then he had been looking for a good, delicious meal of unrealistic and easily shattered dreams, but what he had found was... well, a tasty soul with even tastier personality and cuteness that Byakuran just has to collect for himself.

Only a few people ever make it to his collection of dolls, and Shouichi has more than earned his place there a long time ago.

But Byakuran desires no lifeless doll from Shouichi.

"Won't you help me conquer it, Shou-chan?" he croons at his precious little human; his mouth curling up and sharp, pearly white teeth peeking from underneath the pale pair of lips.

Something flickers in the green eyes, and Byakuran can't help but pull Shouichi's body closer to his own – his ice cold body pressing against Shouichi's burning skin sending amazing sensations through both of them.

"Shou-chan will help me, won't he?" Byakuran repeats, voice intentionally breathless and hoarse because he knows how much it flusters Shouichi, as his hand smooths down the wrinkles on Shouichi's pure white uniform that he himself gave to the redhead a few days ago.

Shouichi's eyes narrow at the words, his displeasure evident in his eeys and body language, but he nods slowly as Byakuran's hand trails over the belt holding up Shouichi's pants.

As different as he is from humans, sexual frustration is one of the things that links him to humans (and his looks, but that's his preferred form). And incubi, but that's another story altogether.

And it's been so long since he has found someone so desirable...

Byakuran's eyes darken at the thought as his fingers slip to unbuckle the belt, at which Shouichi's body turns rigid and Byakuran's grin grows.

"Stop it."

Shouichi's hand grabs his, and Byakuran halts his movements in meek curiosity as he tilts his head at Shouichi as though he's not sure what he's doing wrong. In reality, he doesn't care, and he knows it would be easy to force himself on Shouichi and make the feeble thing submit to him.

But something flickers in those deep green eyes, something that Byakuran doesn't quite understand... and that itself intrigues him enough to let his hand fall from Shouichi's pants.

However, it does not make him move away from Shouichi, whose body he is pressing against and whose scent is lingering in the air. Hazel-like scent – and Byakuran likes it more than he expected himself to.

"Shou-chan?"

Shouichi's eyelids flutter, and the dazed look is back. "I'll help you, Byakuran-san. As long as I can return home afterwards..."

Byakuran's hand goes all the way up to Shouichi's cheek and strokes at the unblemished skin affectionately, his eyelids sliding down as his trademark grin widens on his lips. "That's a good boy, Shou-chan," he says as his thumb travels down to Shouichi's lips, tracing over them, and Shouichi's lips purse together tightly in response, disgust evident in Shouichi's posture and eyes.

* * *

There's little for Shouichi to do asides from observing and analyzing the results of Byakuran's madly efficient ways of destruction, and he does so diligently despite the disgust that stays omnipresent within him no matter the situation.

Just how does Byakuran expect him to help-?

Unbeknownst to Shouichi, all the things he does with the little toys of machinery Byakuran equips him with are helping Byakuran. Knowledge is power – and Shouichi's helping him acquire it with his fine self-built inventions.

Because even with Byakuran's powers (he's sort of a monster among his supernatural comrades as well~), taking over the world would be a painfully slow process. Not to mention that he just might blow up the whole place before his ambition of perfection is fulfilled, and he does not want that.

...Well, maybe just a little~?

And afterwards it would be easy to transcend his perfect creation to the human world as well, but that's the part _Shou-chan _knows nothing about.

And, well, asides from that...

Byakuran just really wants Shouichi to stand by his side as he wreaks havoc upon the forever nocturnal world where war is everlasting and gore nothing abnormal – it's the sort of world where all those monsters mothers scare their children with reside, and Byakuran is nothing short of being one of those monsters. If anything, he's even worse – and he revels in this, _celebrates _his own sanity that is insanity to others, until there's nothing left to burn or kill.

And Shouichi's there with him all the way – because how can he feel bad for _monsters_ he does not know?

However, his stomach protests at that sentiment and proves that _yes, you can feel terrible for aiding Byakuran in killing demons, warlocks and whatever else folklore there is_.

How could he not, with all those dreadful screams and outburts of regret that wash against him in the battle fields where he stands helplessly as one creature grabs his leg, hissing something-

-but it never finishes its sentence as Byakuran stomps his leg over its head and crushes its skull _just like that._

That happens more than once, and Shouichi finds Byakuran's expression to be scarier than the fact that someone- no, some_thing _has just been brutally murdered right at his feet.

The wide purple eyes and the sneer that taints Byakuran's nicely formed lips are the things that really disturb and shake Shouichi. More than he would like to admit even to himself...

* * *

And then there's the gathering of Tri-Ni-Set... which is one of the main reasons Byakuran chose Shouichi.

"I only need Tsunayoshi-kun's soul and then this world is mine," Byakuran croons as a trail of blood trickles down his paler than white cheek... a tongue flicking out to lick at his thin (but oh so awe-worthy) lips.

Shouichi remains silent even if his stomach grumbles with worry – this is not what he had ever wanted... he had never wanted...

He just wants to go home and forget.

But he knows that even if he goes home, there's no way he can _forget_.

Not these touches that linger on his neck for too long, not that cruel smile that is all sorts of wrong, not his own cacophonia of feelings that are not supposed to be there in the midst of horror and fear.

"Yes, Byakuran-san," he replies weakly but seriously all the same.

(There is no way he can enjoy being needed in this sickening way.)

(There is no way he can enjoy watching Byakuran's smooth movements as he glides past his enemies, piercing their chests and other body parts with just his hand.)

Byakuran's feral grin is directed at him –_ directly_ at him, and Shouichi can't suppress the shiver that goes through him. It's been some time since they have been alone; Byakuran has managed to gather a awe-inducing army of supernatural beings, and Shouichi has been organizing the divisions and barking orders at commanders. Who knew that he'd be such a great strategist?

Byakuran did, Shouichi thinks as he stares into those purple eyes that shine with evident danger and something Shouichi can't quite figure out.

It's something dark, something akin to those flashes he witnesses in Byakuran's eyes when he demonstrates an efficient way to destroy a vampire by shoving his hand through the being's chest and taking out the not-beating heart before brutally tearing the muscle apart with his own teeth, blood spluttering over his mouth and clothes-

Shouichi feels bile rising up his throat at _that _mental image.

"Shou-chan's serious face makes me want to do things to him," Byakuran hums, cutting off that train of thought for Shouichi, and takes Shouichi's hand in his, the cold and the warm entwining with one another.

"Byakuran-san, that's-"

Byakuran raises their hands up, fingers intertwining, as the white-haired being pushes their chests against one another, causing Shouichi to stumble backwards until his back met with the pristine white walls of the room.

Shouichi quiets down – and Byakuran notices just how lovely Shouichi's eyes look when they're full of life like this.

It would be so easy to quench that life away from those eyes...

It wouldn't take that much, just a little snap of his fingers, or a kiss...

Byakuran's eyes move onto Shouichi's pale pink lips and narrow at the sight of them. Hmhm, he had barely gotten a taste of those lips when he had sucked a part of Shouichi's soul out back then...

(Returning it later, of course, because Shouichi with his complete soul is too fun to abandon.)

"Byakuran-san," Shouichi's alarmed voice utters, but Byakuran detects no hint of resistance – and even if he did, he does not heed it as he leans down to capture Shouichi's lips with his own, free arm wrapping tightly around Shouichi's middle section to prevent the redhead from escaping.

The meeting of their lips is just as intoxicating feeling as he remembers it, and his hand squeezes Shouichi's tightly, possessively, as he presses into the kiss greedily, wanting to thoroughly ravish Shouichi's near virgin lips.

The sensation of this kind is so foreign to Byakuran. He has had many great fucks before, and shared kisses with better kissers than Shouichi, but this kiss...

Shouichi's lips move tentatively against his, and that makes Byakuran growl out loud as his hand all but tears through Shouichi's uniform jacket.

It's a carnal, predatory desire to make Shouichi fully his; is this what Mukuro once talked about finding the one you're bound to?

Byakuran sneers at the thought; nothing cages him, _Byakuran_, to anything.

If anything, it's him that does the caging – encompassing all in his vicinity.

_Devouring _all.

And, oh, does he want to devour Shouichi?

Byakuran nibbles down on Shouichi's lower lip, eliciting a low, breathless whine from Shouichi's throat.

...Yes, yes he does. Terribly so. Until there's no skin or bone left of him.

Until Shouichi belongs to him fully – Byakuran is awfully thrifty when it comes to letting go of his playthings, after all.

And Byakuran is nothing short of greedy; even greedier than that little Mammon-chan he had the pleasure of soaking in acid after snatching the little bit of Tri-Ni-Set's granted power Mammon had had for herself.

Byakuran presses against Shouichi's hot, clumsy little body more, nails shredding the fabric on Shouichi's back as Byakuran deepens the kiss forcibly, teeth scraping and nibbling against the lips before them.

Whether it's all the blood that has gotten Byakuran this excited or Shouichi, he can't say for sure.

Shouichi's eyes squeeze shut as a low moan tumbles against Byakuran's mouth, their breaths mingling and that sensation driving both of them a little crazy, neither of them noticing the droplets of blood that smear their lips and faces and, most of all, Byakuran's once pristine white clothes.

Within the confinements of Byakuran's _palace, _Byakuran fucks Shouichi against the pearly white wall hard for the first time as Shouichi clings to him, face and body flushed as he moans loudly for Byakuran – their innermost desires coming undone that night.

* * *

Shouichi shivers; he'd never get used to the freezing temperature Byakuran's palace (_literally _a palace, even Taj Mahal would be put in shame), especially since there are no blankets for him to use anymore.

Byakuran insists Shouichi not to cover his body with unnecessary things when he's alone or with Byakuran himself – and whenever he says that, Byakuran's eyes would rake over his body lewdly, clearly undressing the redhead with his eyes.

And the looks don't necessarily stop even when a meeting considering the last piece of Tri-Ni-Set begins.

Meetings with Byakuran's subordinates, that is, and sometimes meetings with those fools who think they can negotiate for their lives...

Byakuran is not a merciful being; he kidnaps children from their cradles and _eats them._

Shouichi has seen that happen whenever Byakuran would return from the real- no, from _Shouichi's _world.

Those are the times when he remembers the cold, ghostly eyes watching him back in his teenage years, watching him jerk off clumsily to a very poor mental image of himself with girl he had a crush on back then, and Shouichi feels even more trapped.

At the same time...

At the same time, he has never felt so alive.

The battle conferences set him right in his element, surprisingly, and Shouichi finds himself becoming accustomed to barking orders at... underlings, he supposed. _Comrades _would be a lie, a pretty bad one at that...

But ruling with the fact that he's Byakuran's favorite pet – even if he hates that word, that nickname everyone has branded him with, with a passion rivaling a thousand suns – is actually quite fulfilling, and sometimes Shouichi worries for his sanity.

However, this morning... midday... evening... whatever time it is, Shouichi doesn't worry about that.

He just feels cold as he shifts on his bed, a dull ache pounding against the back of his head.

No matter how insane he might be, there's no way he wouldn't feel guilt for sending troops off to get Sawada Tsunayoshi's soul, which is apparently a valuable piece to Byakuran's plans.

His eyelids flutter open at that thought, guilt gnawing at the edges of his consciousness as he curl up in attempt to get himself warm.

He'd never get used to this freezing temperature, for sure...

The sheets rustle underneath him, and Shouichi once again curses the fact that Byakuran has conveniently burnt off the blankets Shouichi had been previously using.

Byakuran is such a strange creature...

Not only is he something that Shouichi could only call as an outright psychopath, but then there's this really childish quality that almost makes Shouichi like him...

If only he weren't bent on ruling the two worlds.

But even that thought is frail and weak, and Shouichi knows that in time that thought would cease to exist in his mind.

...Like it disappears instantly right now when he feels a hand prying his thighs open.

Shouichi cracks an eye open and looks up only to see a smile full of suggestions and eyes gleaming with expectation and desire.

Desire for power, that is, not the... sexual kind of desire.

But the look is still enough to make Shouichi feel a little hotter despite the bothering chilliness of the room.

"Byakuran-san," Shouichi croaks out with sleepy voice, eyelids fluttering once more as he realizes how Byakuran holds him in a rather compromising position.

Byakuran, despite not being one of _those _beings, has a rather... good sex drive that could keep him going for who knows how long, which would be impossible for Shouichi.

Byakuran smirks at him, the violet mark under his eye once more catching Shouichi's attention as Byakuran tugs Shouichi fully onto his back on the mattress, turning the situation even more compromising as he situates himself between Shouichi's legs.

Byakuran, shameless as he is, is not wearing any clothes either, and Shouichi has a feeling Byakuran has been watching him sleep again.

It's terrifying how territorial being Byakuran is, but Shouichi has had the time to get used to all the blood and bowels flying around in the palace and outside it, so his fear has succumbed to the background.

"Byakuran-san," Shouichi repeats, sleep still holding him in its hold although feebly. "Aren't you supposed to monitor the group..." He shifts his legs, accidentally opening the gap between them wider, much to Byakuran's amusement.

"Hmhm, I left Glo-kun to look over them," Byakuran hums lightly, a cold finger tracing over Shouichi's tender thigh slowly as though teasing the other. "Glo-kun, despite all his flaws, is a smart little thing," Byakuran adds, finger dipping threateningly near Shouichi's bare crotch – causing Shouichi's breath to hitch unnoticeable in his throat.

"Glo Xinia?" Shouichi repeats dully, a disapproving frown on his face even despite the situation between his legs. "You left the operation to _Glo Xinia_?"

Byakuran's smile widens at the painfully apparent exasperation on Shouichi's face as the tips of his fingers brush against Shouichi's sac, making Shouichi twitch noticeably.

"Glo-kun is a competent little demon," Byakuran purrs in satisfaction as he crawls over Shouichi, tugging the redhead's slender legs around his waist. "He's also decent at strategies. Nowhere near your level, Shou-chan, but that'll do for now."

Somehow that rubs Shouichi's ego the right way, and the redhead sighs as he relaxes his body again as Byakuran's cold fingers play with his flaccid dick like they usually play with pieces of candy Byakuran often steals from his travels to the human world.

"Nngh..." Shouichi groans, the ice cold temperature of Byakuran's hand making the sensation all the more unbearable. "I wouldn't... trust Glo Xinia's competence even if my life depended on it..." _Especially _if his life depended on it.

Byakuran lets out an airy chuckle as he squeezes Shouichi's dick in his hands like it's playdough, earning a satisfying yelp from Shouichi's lips.

Shouichi wonders if having satisfying rounds of kinky half-human and half-demon sex with something that is attempting to kill his former boss is considered 'throwing your brains in the nearest trash can and then impaling said brains'.

"Shou-chan is so mistrusting when it comes to Glo-kun," Byakuran chuckles, letting his hand fall from Shouichi's half-hard cock for now. "How lovable." Byakuran thrusts his hips down against Shouichi's, cocks rubbing against each other so suddenly that Shouichi's back arches like the most beautiful archway Byakuran once witnessed in Italy, one of his favorite human world places.

"Who would," Shouichi pants breathlessly as the jolts of friction down there stabilize, "trust him... He's only capable of mindless banter and messy-" Byakuran grinds against Shouichi again, and the redhead moans.

Byakuran's eyes darken at the lewd sound, hands now tugging Shouichi up from his lying position and onto Byakuran's lap. Shouichi's slightly flushed face hovers above Byakuran's, and the monster smiles at the sight of Shouichi's dark green eyes and a tint of pink dusting those cheeks.

"Hmh, don't be so mean to Glo-kun, Shou-chan," Byakuran croons as if he's speaking to a beloved pet. (Which Shouichi _is_. There's no such thing as love confessions between them, so a term lover would be as inadequate as it is untrue.)

A hand sweeps Shouichi's overgrown bangs away from his eyes (his glasses are on the small nightstand next to the bed) before Byakuran leans up to kiss Shouichi while his other hand grips Shouichi's hips painfully, sharp nails digging into Shouichi's skin and drawing blood – and earning a pained gasp from Shouichi's lips, giving Byakuran the chance to deepen the kiss and let his tongue snake into the delicious warmth of Shouichi's mouth.

Shouichi can feel Byakuran's cruel grin pressing against his lips even when their tongues rub against each other – their crotches joining in to the rub fest soon after – and if he still were the same person as before, he would feel hurt by the knowledge of this not being love.

At the most, it's a grimy mockery of what Shouichi deems as love.

But he doesn't care, it doesn't hurt that much, because even if it's like this, Shouichi only wants to-

Byakuran bites down on his lips, a punishment for letting his mind wander off during this moment of unleashed desires.

Shouichi only wants to help Byakuran.

Stockholm Syndrome is a bitch, isn't it?

Stockholm Syndrome**:** the psychological tendency of a hostage to bond with, identify with, or sympathize with his or her captor.

...In this case? Help the captor to rule both human and supernatural worlds while occasionally partaking in very kinky and extremely sexual activities that usually make Shouichi bend into positions he never thought he would be able to pull off as he had thought that he was too stiff. Well, shows what he knows...

Shouichi presses back into the French kiss and his hands move up to Byakuran's icy cheeks, lingering for a moment before his arms wind around Byakuran's neck shakily as the friction between his legs makes him all sort of hot and bothered whilst Byakuran's hand that is not on Shouichi's hips travels down Shouichi's warm chest, long and nimble fingers finding a nipple to tease.

Shouichi's face scrunches up as he inhales sharply, unintentionally sucking in Byakuran's breath as well.

Somehow, it's erotic.

Shouichi shifts himself on Byakuran's lap, adding to the friction more than he intends to, and groans lewdly against Byakuran's mouth before Byakuran pulls away, a trail of saliva evident on both their faces.

And that is the sight the two Cervello women meet when they step into Shouichi's room, unannounced as always.

(Shouichi suspects they get off on surprising him just like Byakuran does.)

If they feel disgusted or revolted by the sight of their boss fucking (well, not yet, but getting there) his second-in-command, they show no such emotion on their carefully blank faces. "Irie-sama, Byakuran-sama," they start melodically, their voices blending into one.

Shouichi flushes and freezes on Byakuran's lap, his hard-on shrinking noticeably at the intrusion of this private moment. "What is it-?" he tries to sound calm and authorative, but he finds it impossible to stop his voice from hitching when Byakuran's finger teases his hole playfully. A hiss follows. "Byakuran-san," he mutters, shifting awkwardly as he attempts to get off.

Byakuran pays no mind to Shouichi's struggles and keeps his arm tightly wrapped around Shouichi's middle as he speaks to the Cervello, "Hmhm, is the operation over and done with~?"

Shouichi distantly marvels Byakuran's shamelessness; it takes a special kind of person (humanoid, to be perfectly honest because Byakuran isn't exactly human) to be able to keep on grinding against Shouichi's naked glory as both of them are naked when someone walks in on them.

Oh, and then to keep on having a pleasant conversation that concerns his world domination plans...

Byakuran truly has no shame – but Shouichi has, for both of them, and he makes an undignified squeak of protest when Byakuran's finger enters him without any preparation and _it stings a lot_-

Cervello women nod at Byakuran's question, their eyes unblinking and faces as unreadable as always as though they're not witnessing a live porno in the making.

"Yes. Glo Xinia went to join with the group despite the strict command of simply looking over them from here, but the mission itself was successful."

Byakuran chuckles breathlessly, his one finger swirling inside Shouichi's tight ass. "Glo-kun sure likes to do whatever he pleases, doesn't he?" he mutters to himself as Shouichi's body shakes against his with suppressed moans of both pain and pleasure. "Make sure he's properly punished for his actions later," Byakuran commands amicably as he inserts the second finger into Shouichi's squeezable ass, causing the redhead to tremble more in pain as the fingers stretch him mercilessly from the inside.

"Yes, Byakuran-sama."

Byakuran chuckles at Shouichi's scandalized expressions and attempts to hold his voice in even though they're already caught so there's no point in trying to. "Continue with the report," he demands as his fingers brush against that bundle of nerves that he knows makes Shouichi scream when done right.

A strangled whine is the response Byakuran gets this time, and he frowns slightly at the feeble human on his lap – currently trembling against his chest, face pressed against Byakuran's shoulder.

Byakuran finds the whole process of first preparing Shouichi properly (without any lube, of course, because Shouichi's pained screams are even better than his pleasured ones – literally music to his ears) and then fucking him hard against the mattress while the Cervello girls stand there and give him their report while their eyes are on the copulating pair, taking in the image of Byakuran on top of Shouichi and Shouichi's strangely aroused state as he squirms underneath Byakuran and listening to Shouichi's groans and moans and Byakuran's own grunts of agonizing pleasure.

Needless to say, Byakuran feels absolutely thrilled at Shouichi's expression of humiliation after the Cervello leave.

Also, this is the first time he has actually managed to make Shouichi cry out of pleasure.

Byakuran feels all sorts of satisfied – and he even has Sawada Tsunayoshi in his hands now.

Life as a sick bastard with no moral codes whatsoever feels pretty amazing. 10/10, he would recommend.

* * *

Sawada Tsunayoshi is, in all of his youthful idealism, quite a fool, Byakuran thinks as he observes the chained and gagged (and brutally beaten, as well) member of Tri-Ni-Set from his throne.

If Tsunayoshi hadn't come for Shouichi, he wouldn't be in this position now.

Tsunayoshi's brown eyes challenge him from the floor, and Byakuran lets out a low chortling sound from deep within his throat.

This is the last piece to his complete victory, and Byakuran takes his time inspecting Tsunayoshi's face and body with critical eye.

His soul's scent is delicious and mouth-watering, Byakuran can't deny that; but then again, Tsunayoshi is Mukuro's chosen one. Mukuro, despite all of his faults and annoyances, has relatively good taste when it comes to humans and their souls.

Byakuran smiles, remembering the sticky feeling of Mukuro's blood on his lips. The memory is enough to make him growl in unsatisfied hunger – but he knows he can't eat Tsunayoshi fully.

Just a bit so that the Tri-Ni-Set's power would be his...

"Shou-chan," Byakuran beckons for his right-hand man to step forward and anticipates for Tsunayoshi's reaction to this development with great interest because from what he had seen, Tsunayoshi had been more than just a little interested in his precious Shou-chan.

In a friendly manner, of course, but to Byakuran that fact means nothing.

It's best to rip and tear everything that could possibly make Shouichi turn against him; that's Byakuran's policy.

Not that Shouichi could actually turn against him at this point, Byakuran thinks as Shouichi steps out to stand by his side. Underneath the pristine white clothes Shouichi is wearing, his body is covered with teeth and nail marks and small wounds from their sessions.

Byakuran is nothing if not thorough with his games with Shouichi, after all.

Tsunayoshi's eyes widen remarkably at the sight of the expressionless redhead – and Byakuran snickers happily at that reaction. Those brown eyes certainly are expressive when shock glistens them like that, he thinks to himself as he snatches a treat from a small bowl of candy.

Tsunayoshi can't speak, can't move as Kikyo has him completely restrained, and Byakuran's smile turns outright feral as he pulls Shouichi down onto his lap, and Shouichi complies – although Byakuran sense the unwillingness from Shouichi, and that makes his brow furrow slightly.

Old loyalties are annoying to weed off from a person, he thinks to himself as he clicks his tongue in weak annoyance. Shou-chan is his, his, his only...

Shou-chan is his white queen in this chess game, and Tsunayoshi is the black king that encompasses all colors – and Yuni had been the black queen.

And now Tsunayoshi had nothing – his queen is in Byakuran's palace's inner chambers in everlasting slumber, just like his pawns.

Byakuran smiles at the sheer horror shining in Tsunayoshi's eyes as Byakuran presses a light kiss against Shouichi's neck, his nose wrinkling as he sniffs at Shouichi's skin, purple eyes gleaming with promises of death and defeat.

Realization flickers in Tsunayoshi's eyes, and the man attempts to squirm back on the floor, but Kikyo's hand in Tsunayoshi's hair and a gorgeous boot against the brunet's back effectively stop the man from escaping from this.

The gag in Tsunayoshi's mouth prevents him from talking – and to be frank, Byakuran finds that boring, so with a flick of his hand he gestures Kikyo to untie the gag from the brunet's mouth. The teal-haired humanoid nods curtly, long and delicate fingers working on the gag for a moment before the piece of cloth slides down, and Tsunayoshi inhales.

"Byakuran..."

Byakuran grins, feeling Shouichi's confusion from the redhead's stiffening posture. Byakuran ignores it, and merely tucks his hand between Shouichi's thighs, running it over Shouichi's thigh.

"Tsunayoshi-kun," Byakuran begins cheerfully, all traces of annoyance swept away from his face as though they had never existed in the first place. "It seems like you know me."

Tsunayoshi's eyes narrow before trailing over to Shouichi's pale face, and Byakuran grits his teeth at the sight of worry shining in Tsunayoshi's eyes. Byakuran's hand rubs at Shouichi's thigh a little harder, making Shouichi inhale sharply and shift on his lap to find more comfortable position.

Tsunayoshi, despite the bloody cut on his lip and bruises that scatter over his once pretty face, glares at Byakuran, his whole frame shaking with anger. Oh, that must be the result of having all of his little... guardians killed.

"Of course you do," Byakuran continues softly, using his other hand to caress Shouichi's cheek, taunting both the brunet and the redhead, who seems to feel very uncomfortable with this situation but who's also not commenting on it.

(Byakuran has messed his mind well, but not well enough. As long as he still cares for Sawada Tsunayoshi...)

"It's hard not to, considering how I took your precious Yuni-chan to my personal collections," Byakuran giggles, a nail digging into Shouichi's cheek and drawing out blood before tracing it down to Shouichi's chin and a crimson line following his finger.

Tsunayoshi's body freezes at that, eyes wide open, and Byakuran tuts a little. Horrified looks like that get boring after a few genocides.

But Tsunayoshi's crying face would be a sight to see...

Byakuran smiles as he leans to chew on Shouichi's earlobe. Of course, nothing defeats _Shou-chan's _crying face, which he has seen a few times during Shouichi's stay in this world. And back in Shouichi's teenage years, of course... Back then when Byakuran's ambitions were all but a mere dream...

"You should have seen Yuni-chan's face when she realized that she wouldn't be able to run, wouldn't be able to save her precious family," Byakuran continues leisurely as though he's talking about the weather and not the way he sort of mind-fucked Tsunayoshi's beloved into submission.

And, oh, how he had enjoyed that.

"She thought you would be safe, though," Byakuran sing-songs, his fingers tapping rhythmically against Shouichi's thigh as he pulls Shouichi's body even closer to his, Shouichi's back pressing against Byakuran's chest. "Yuni-chan smiled brightly, you know? She thought I didn't know of you." Byakuran laughs, and the sound makes everyone in the room cringe more or less visibly, including Shouichi.

Tsunayoshi's eyelids slide down, and a pained look crosses his face.

"Yuni..." a choked call for Yuni is all that leaves his lips, and Byakuran is content that he has drawn out such a reaction from the brunet.

"Really, such emotions as attachment and devotion and _love _are rather useless, don't you think?" Byakuran continues taunting as he stands up, the movement surprising Shouichi who then falls onto the floor, and walks to the brunet with the air of a king.

Or self-important God.

"Loving and caring for someone..." Byakuran drawls as he bends down (earning a shocked "Byakuran-sama!" from Kikyo) and lifts Tsunayoshi's head higher with his fingertips. "Tsunayoshi-kun, to get what you want in these worlds, isn't it better to throw such thing away?" Byakuran chuckles as his nails drag themselves over Tsunayoshi's cuts and reopen some of them.

"You're unforgivable," Tsunayoshi chokes out, and look, there they are: the tears of self-anger and agony of losing someone dear. "Love is what makes a world a better place, Byakuran," Tsunayoshi continues with a strained tone as he stares into Byakuran's enticing purple pools. "The world Shouichi-kun and I live in is like that." Tsunayoshi's gaze shifts to the redhead who has by now gathered himself and is now standing stiffly in the sidelines.

"Shouichi-kun-"

Byakuran's hand clutches Tsunayoshi's throat before the brunet has even managed to utter Shouichi's name halfway through.

"Now, now, Tsunayoshi-kun, don't get ahead of yourself," Byakuran breathes against the brunet's lips as his own pair curls into a merciless smirk. "You can think about what I said for all _eternity..._"

* * *

Byakuran can distinctly hear the sounds of Shouichi vomiting in the bathroom as he lies on the now king-sized bed with crimson, silk sheets that go well with Shouichi's hair and that reveal no noticeable stains of blood whenever Byakuran gets too excited and his nails dig way too deep into Shouichi's sensitive flesh.

(Bathroom is mainly for Shouichi because such beings as Byakuran have no need for those.)

Byakuran smiles at the thought of the scars adorning Shouichi's body; each of them only emphasizing the truth that Irie Shouichi is his property, and his only.

Byakuran is the king of this world, now, and it won't take long until his claws will reach for the human world too, and there's no more beautiful imagery than having those disgusting little beings beg for mercy from him as he kills a nationality or two in his wake.

Shouichi is the only exception from the human race whose existence he bears and whose company he seeks out whenever he's bored; for a mere human, for a mere _treat_, Irie Shouichi is something he could never let his hands off.

It's because Shouichi belongs to him – in body, in heart, in every way.

And when Shouichi emerges from the bathroom – pallid face, dark bags under his eyes, sickeningly translucent skin and unnaturally thin build – Byakuran rakes his eyes over Shouichi, takes in everything Shouichi has become during their time together, and thinks-

_This is perfection. _

And then Shouichi comes to bed in all of his naked glory – because what need do they have for clothes, as they will be the Adam and Eve of new beginnings – without a hint of shame on his face, allowing Byakuran to pull him into a searing kiss and into a mess of tangling limbs and screams of both immense pain and unmeasurable pleasure.

Bones may crack and heads might snap, but Byakuran sees nothing wrong with that as long as he can reach his ambitions with Shouichi by his side.


	3. Part III

**title: **monsters under your bed

**characters: **Byakuran, Irie Shouichi, Kikyo

**rating: **M

**notes/warnings:** Uh, I might delete this chapter later because personally I found the last chapter's ending decent enough to leave it there, but here, let's hear what you have to say about this. Includes, well, death. Implied sex, as well. Violence.

* * *

Part III.

* * *

Sometimes the most tragic tales do not include death.

Sometimes there's a fate much worse than death – and, for a human being, that is the loss of one's true self. This is the most mundane thing, it happens every day in our world, but it is a dreadful thing when you one day wake up to notice that you don't recognize yourself anymore.

Sometimes life throws you into a storm of fire, and you get through that, but you have turned into something you never wanted to be. Body full of scars, and a bitter mentality. That's what happens in life, and it is not unusual.

Tragedies of life can take many forms, and they can be short but extremely painful ones or they can be long-lasting events that, in the beginning, do not even resemble tragedies but an adventure of some sorts. That is before life decides to throw in a few unreasonable mindfucks and throw you out of balance until you cannot recognize what is right and wrong or bread and soup.

Sometimes, this tragedy that keeps going on for a long time, is the most painful one for you: tragedies change people. Either you come out of it stronger than you were before, or the tragedy spits you out from its womb as a broken being with shattered, all too metaphorical wings.

Sometimes life does not give you lemons; sometimes it squeezes the breath out of your windpipe until you choke and splutter like a drowning man whose leg has been bitten by a shark.

During those times you would probably desire the lemon, would you not?

* * *

"Byakuran-sama."

Byakuran lazily raises his head from his palm to look at Kikyo, but the look in his eyes is void from playfulness.

"Report?" Byakuran questions as something dark flashes in his eyes, and it's apparent even to the most foolish creatures in the room that Byakuran is not in an indulging mood at the moment.

Kikyo is no fool, and he lowers his head respectfully to appease his lord. "Japan is under control now. A small resistance movements keep intervening with us, but they're not enough to outwit us or outmatch our strength." Kikyo's lips form a small smile at his own thoughts, locks of teal hair falling over his shoulders like a waterfall.

Byakuran nods with an air of disinterest oozing off from him as he looks down at his nails, eyeing them for a moment before setting his hand down on his suspiciously empty lap.

Kikyo dares to raise his head at the silence, his well-cared eyebrows lowering on his face in a sign of confusion. "Byakuran-sama...?"

"Hey, Kikyo-chan," Byakuran starts slowly as he picks up a single flower from a vase he once picked up from one of his visits to China in the past and brings the plant close to his face, close enough for that flowery scent to waft into his nose. "What do you think of humans?"

Kikyo's eyes narrow at the question, aquamarine pools shining with unvoiced questions, but Byakuran pays no heed to that as he plucks some of the petals off from the black rose in his hand. The thorns of the flower prickle at his skin, but none manage to draw out blood; Byakuran frowns and clutches at the flower harder until he can feel the thorns sinking into his skin.

Deep black petals fall down to his feet, but Byakuran's eyes are staring elsewhere, but not at Kikyo even when Kikyo replies to his question.

"They're weak," Kikyo says simply, raising his head but not standing from his kneeling position and uses this time to inspect his lord instead. "They exploit one another, but are afraid when real challenge comes." Kikyo's lips twitch and his aquamarine eyes darken a shade or two at the memories of human cruelty he has witnessed in his life. Anger pulses through the guardian's veins, and he almost snarls at the disgusting shades of humanity.

"And in their weakness, they search for something like love. They seek another person," Kikyo continues calmly, palm brushing some stray locks from his forehead, "as if they cannot live on their own." It's pathetic, in Kikyo's mind, especially considering how people could do nothing but hurt each other, and then they even go as far as dragging another person into their own messes, making _them _miserable for their personal interests...

"They're simply selfish." And arrogant, Kikyo silently adds as he thinks back to his former contract from the human world... and that soul had been dirty. So very dirty. Kikyo could almost taste that rotten taste on his tongue even _now._

Byakuran hums, lips pulling into a small smile as he plucks another petal from the black rose, this time savoring the tender feeling between his fingers.

"Kikyo-chan is right, of course," Byakuran sighs out loud, his eyelids sliding open to look at his most trusted guardian. (But that is not to say that he has earned his 'most trusted aid' title. That belongs to someone else entirely.)

"But you forgot one tiny thing."

Byakuran's eyes close again as he lets the flower slides down from his hand, the rest of the petals scattering to the floor.

"Their lives are that of an insect in comparison to ours," Byakuran muses out loud, a grim but sinister expression crossing his face as he holds his hand up, dark red liquid dripping onto his face as he stares up at the bleeding body part.

His eyes stare at the blood that is so different from human blood and yet it looks remarkably close to that of a human's.

He wonders if any other human's blood would taste the same as Shou-chan's.

"It's so easy to cut off their lives," Byakuran continues and snaps his bloodless hand's fingers to emphasize his point, "just like that." Byakuran's eyelids slide up momentarily, slits of purple visible to Kikyo as they stare at him.

"Sometimes we don't even have to do anything," Byakuran continues with a short, high-pitched laughter that doesn't sound quite right, and Kikyo frowns at the sound as it sounds like something sharp scraping over the blackboard. A nasty, ear-shattering sound.

And it's this moment that he realizes that something is very wrong with his almighty Byakuran-sama.

It's the lack of shine in those pools of purple; it's that silently boiling darkness that threatens to consume Kikyo as though he has angered Byakuran somehow.

It's the silently boiling wrath that has Kikyo stiffen in alarm.

"Byakuran-sama?"

Byakuran smiles, sharp teeth revealed as a few drops of crimson fall to his face, to his cheeks. His own blood, but he does not mind. "They can be killed even by the simplest of bacteria if their immune system is too weak," he speaks softly, his voice ascending and descending as though he's singing, before he bursts into a fit of laughter that sounds too high and too crazed to Kikyo's ears.

He grimaces, but hides his expression by lowering his face again.

"It's just too bad, Kikyo-chan," Byakuran eventually murmurs, voice as soft as a breeze of wind against his face.

Ah, since when did Byakuran-

Kikyo's face is lifted up, and his aquamarine eyes meet with purple.

"Shou-chan's going to die one day since he's not one of us."

Ah, so that is what Byakuran-

Kikyo purses his lips, carefully pondering over his net few words.

"You knew that from the beginning, Byakuran-sama."

Byakuran smiles almost a rueful smile at that.

"It'll be a pity for such a precious toy to wither away, Kikyo-chan."

Kikyo says nothing to that, merely lowers his head deeper in respect - no one is allowed to speak badly of Irie Shouichi in Byakuran's vicinity, after all, and Kikyo knows that he has no such right either.

So deep is Byakuran's obsession.

* * *

The sheets rustle underneath Shouichi's fragile body as he shifts around in them, trying to find a position most comfortable for him. His attempts are all in vain as his body aches warningly at his movements, and Shouichi stops, his breath coming out as a quivering puff of air as coldness wraps itself around him again like a suffocating blanket of death.

He shudders weakly, attempting to cover himself with the scarlet sheets and manages to entangle himself within them.

His muscles feel sore and unwilling to cooperate with him, so he doesn't even try to force himself to move away from the bed.

Not that he particularly desires to – the king-sized bed is the warmest piece of furniture the vast room has in it, and he needs warmth more than anything right now.

He's conscious enough to hear the opening of the door and following footsteps, and he groans weakly before he can restrain himself. Fear swirls inside him, clutching at his bowels and twisting them nastily and he curls up despite the muscle pain the movement causes.

"Are you not feeling well still, Shou-chan?" Byakuran's deceivingly tender voice whispers into his ear, and Shouichi gags in response, almost vomiting as he trembles under the sheets.

Shouichi feels a hand tugging off the sheets from his body, and Shouichi whines weakly even though his consciousness chastises himself for showing weakness around Byakuran.

But it is difficult to grasp that thought when he feels so utterly weak and boneless, and Byakuran's pushing him onto his lap.

His _ice cold _lap.

Shouichi shudders against Byakuran, cold sweat running down his face as he forces his eyes to open and to look at Byakuran's face that is slightly obscured from his view by unwanted tears in his eyes.

"Oh, you're burning up, Shou-chan," Byakuran chides him, and Shouichi distantly hears the smile that tugs at the corners of Byakuran's lips. "You've been overworking yourself again, have you?"

Byakuran's hand languidly travels down Shouichi's overheated and oversensitive body, and Shouichi whimpers. "Byakuran... san, no..." he chokes out heavily, his vision blurring as black dots dance in front of his eyes.

He hears a faint chuckle as Byakuran's hand slides across his skin, sending shudders throughout Shouichi's body due to the icy touch.

"Silly Shou-chan. As if I'd restrain myself just because of this."

* * *

The havoc in the human world is going well enough, and Byakuran hasn't had to step into action. Not that he particularly desires to – the human world interested him only when Shou-chan had been there, and he has Shou-chan here with him now.

No matter how empty shell of Shou-chan he is right now.

Byakuran figures, using his twisted and cruel logic that leaves feelings unaccounted and pushed aside, that emotionless and limp dolls are just as good of a company as any, and really, it's only this warmth of Shouichi's body that he really seeks out and Shouichi's soft little moans.

Byakuran does not mind that his doll is broken and sick (terribly so, but it's the best way to keep Shouichi around, Byakuran figures as he intentionally feeds Shouichi poisoned grapes), and he does not mind the hazed look in Shouichi's eyes when he sits on Byakuran's lap.

Underneath the haze, Byakuran knows, Shouichi's mind is thinking, working actively, but that mind has been locked away for the time being.

It's just a little precaution, you know?

Byakuran giggles softly as he runs a finger over Shouichi's sweaty and flushed cheek before moving to nibble on the redhead's bruised neck.

"Hey, Shou-chan, Italy fell today," he murmurs against the crook of Shouichi's neck as his hand caresses Shouichi's bare stomach.

They're at a dinner table, surrounded by Byakuran's guests – some of which throw the dazed Shouichi dirty and disgusted looks but which go unnoticed – and guardians (one of which stares at the display with narrowed eyes), and Byakuran's making quite the show by marking Shouichi's body all over again, thoroughly, under the gazes of the guests.

Shouichi whimpers, shame and disgust swirling in the pit of his stomach, as he is pressed against the edge of the table, the sharp pain of the wooden edge against his back making Shouichi gasp for air as he's desperately trying-

To do what, exactly?

He doesn't know, not anymore, when Tsunayoshi is already Byakuran's puppet along with Yuni, and there's no one who can stop Byakuran now...

Not that he wants to stop Byakuran.

Even in this drugged, hazed state of mind, Shouichi doesn't want Byakuran to stop what he's doing. (Or maybe precisely because of that.)

It's a relationship of possession and an ownership, but Shouichi knows that already. He has known that for a long time, but that hasn't stopped him from-

Byakuran's fingers tease a nipple, and Shouichi's head lolls to a side at the stimulus, face flushed and breath coming out as shallow puffs of air as the last thoughts enter his mind.

-falling for this monster.

* * *

Byakuran eyes at the frail being on his bed – yes, Byakuran's bed – with a calculating, hard glance. How long until Shou-chan's body would give in? How long until Shou-chan would wither away?

Purple eyes rake over the sickeningly thin frame of Shouichi's, locking onto the ribs that stick out from Shouichi's stomach like daggers before they move to the violet, almost black, bruises covering Shouichi's sides, throat and there's one on Shouichi's cheek as well, glaringly obvious to Byakuran's eyes in this pristine white and brightly lit room.

It's a sight truly delighting for Byakuran; Shou-chan's battered, weak body is his most exquisite and beautiful masterpiece out of all the things he has ever had the chance to thoroughly abuse. Oh, don't look at him like that; Shou-chan just naturally attracts all sorts of abuse to himself, doesn't he? It's like his face and body beg for it, really, and Byakuran is more than willing to do it for his precious Shou-chan.

Precious, masochistic Shou-chan.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," Byakuran coos after settling himself over the bed, the sheets rustling and mattress inclining under his weight, a hand touching Shouichi's pallif cheek in a mockery of gentleness.

Byakuran isn't sure why he goes this far to mess with Shouichi even after Tsunayoshi has been defeated and mentally crushed, but he doesn't care for the answer. As long as Shouichi is there, as long as Byakuran has something to entertain himself with...

The last step to his true godhood over the two worlds is close, and he can taste it on his lips already.

It's a wonderful feeling, it truly is.

Byakuran leans closer to Shouichi, kissing Shouichi's surprisingly cold neck and allows his lips linger on the soft skin a moment longer as he knows that if this doesn't wake Shouichi up, then he's allowed to wake the other up with more unorthodox methods.

Byakuran licks his lips at the thought of Ghost and him doing Shouichi, the mental image sending pleasing shivers down his spine. He's not fond of sharing, of course not, but Byakuran can never help the feeling of utter victory whenever it's Ghost that fucks Shouichi against the mattress (or table, or wall, or a rotten corpse) and Shouichi screams out Byakuran's name like he's his God.

_Not just yours, Shou-chan, _he thinks as he ducks under the sheets and finds Shouichi's ass cheeks effortlessly with his hands, cupping them and giving the cheeks a good squeeze. _Everyone else's, too. _

When Shouichi doesn't even twitch at the grope, Byakuran tilts his head slightly before rising into a sitting position again to look down at Shouichi properly.

"Shou-chan's in a really deep slumber, eh?" Byakuran snickers, even though his heart misses a beat in his chest – and he wonders what this sensation is. Why did his heart-?

Byakuran nudges at the sleeping form of his fucktoy (most appropriate term for Shou-chan, although it sounds a bit crude~), but Shouichi still doesn't stir or show any signs of being alive, for that matter.

Byakuran furrows his brow in confusion as he stares down at Shouichi's face and inspects it more carefully. There's that dark violet bruise that goes from the corner of his left eye to his cheekbone, followed by dreadfully pale skin (almost rivaling Byakuran's hair) and... Byakuran's eyes land on Shouichi's lips.

They're pale violet.

Byakuran stares some more.

"Shou-chan?" he questions, his fingers now moving to find a pulse point from Shouichi's neck. "You're awfully good at playing dead, you know~," Byakuran chuckles mirthlessly, his smile fading away and brow furrowing in concentration as he tries to find a pulse.

Anything that would indicate that Shouichi's still alive.

Shouichi says nothing.

He doesn't even breathe.

...and his heart doesn't beat.

Byakuran lets out a soft sigh. "Oh, Shou-chan..." he murmurs as he hangs his head, white locks curtaining his face from view as he stares unseeingly at Shouichi's fingers. Slender, pale, broken fingers.

(Byakuran's a violent lay, and he's proud of it too.)

Byakuran smiles a bit to himself before he gathers himself from the bed, straightening his uniform (he has come straight from a brief discussion with Kikyo-chan, after all, and clothes are a necessity for those times) before leaving to tell his ever so eager to please servants to gather Shouichi's remains and take them to the same room where Tsunayoshi and Yuni are.

Broken toys are dull to play with, after all, and Shouichi is beyond repair.

It's a pity.

Later on that day, Byakuran feasts upon human souls and flesh for the first time in months, and it's this grotesque festival that he names as "Shou-chan's farewell party".

It's a wonderful little ball where Byakuran's monstrosity unveils itself fully for the first time, and guests of honor are all his dinner.

No human on that area lives through that night.

* * *

"Shou-chan," Byakuran whispers nastily against Shouichi's skin that does not rot in this world. Nothing allows it to rot, for there are not bacteria or insects to do that job, and Byakuran is glad for now Shouichi's beauty will be forever preserved.

"Shou-chan."

His lips move along Shouichi's neck, pressing greedy kisses all over the redhead's skin, and halt at Shouichi's ear.

"Shou-chan," Byakuran murmurs into it, voice breathless and low.

_Wake up_

_wake up_

_wake up wake up wake upwakeupwakeup_

Byakuran's hand dives into the bright red tresses and smooths down the hair as nails scrape against Shouichi's scalp in attempt to elicit a pained yelp from Shouichi like the movement usually does.

_wakeupshouchan_

Tsunayoshi's dull brown eyes stare down at Byakuran and Shouichi, unseeing, but Byakuran can feel the mockery, and he turns his head slowly towards the brunet's eyes.

"Tsunayoshi-kun is wrong," he accuses softly, but his eyes are hard as diamonds. "Shou-chan will come back to me."

Silence.

"He will," Byakuran insists, a high-pitched laugh leaving his lips. "Shou-chan is an obedient pet, after all, and pets never disobey their masters." He strokes at Shouichi's chest through the yukata Shouichi has been made to wear, ribs cracking under the pressure but Byakuran doesn't care, doesn't notice such a small detail.

"Shou-chan is mine."


End file.
